Crime Traveller: Waking Up
by EllisHendricks
Summary: Crime Traveller, Holly/Slade romance: Set sometime after the final episode, Slade wakes up on Holly's couch - and he isn't alone. A quick fic, as I try to get back into writing again!


**Waking Up**

When Slade woke up, it took a few seconds to remember where he was. The room was in semi-darkness, the only light coming from the small desk lamp and the television, which still flickered, mutely in the corner. He was stretched out in a half sitting, half lying position on Holly's couch – and he wasn't alone.

He could remember blinking back the fatigue, and at some point in the evening he and Holly must have stopped talking and both fallen asleep. Holly was beside him or, more accurately, half covering him; as he had relaxed backwards into the corner of the couch, she had apparently moved with him. She rested on his chest, her head tucked under his chin. Slade noticed that, despite being asleep, the fingers of her left hand clasped the fabric of his shirt; his own arm was around Holly's shoulder, slightly numbed by the position they were in.

Slade couldn't see the clock but looking up at the blackness outside, and feeling the slight chill in the room, he sensed it must be the very early hours. He knew he should probably wake Holly and go back home to his own bed, but the distance to his flat seemed longer than usual, and all that would greet him there would be silence and solitude. Silence and solitude were part of the reason he had bought the flat in the first place, but now those things didn't hold the same appeal.

Although the numbness in his arm was growing, so was the feeling of contentment that had overtaken him when he woke up and realised where he was. In normal circumstances, Holly would never admit to the feelings Slade knew she had for him – and when she woke up she would almost certainly be mortified – so he was just going to enjoy this moment. And try and work out how he could replicate it – or something like it – in the future.

With his free hand, he reached out and momentarily touched her hair, being careful not to wake her. A few months ago, Holly Turner was more or less just another colleague, someone with whom he interacted, went to for information and stole the occasional wandering glance at from time to time. But the machine had changed all that; changed both of their lives instantaneously. He and Holly had been bound together by the deepest of secrets imaginable, and so it was perhaps inevitable that their friendship would grow as rapidly as it had. But Slade had never known a friendship like this, and knew it was more than that. For a while he had debated whether either of them was ready for that, and the incident at his flat during the Sonja Duvall investigation had confirmed it; although Holly clearly had feelings for him, she also didn't trust him. In the end, Holly throwing the contents of her beer bottle in his face was possibly the best possible outcome to that evening – it acted as both a cold shower and a reality-check, saving them both from the inevitable agonies of an ill-judged one-night stand.

At that time, Slade simply couldn't return the feelings Holly had for him, not with the same honesty and intensity. He was still too wrapped up in the past. But he had done a lot of thinking after that night, and now things couldn't be more different. He and Holly had weathered some significant storms together in the past few months, and Slade's uncertainty had been swept aside during their recent scrape with Stephen Marlowe, when faced with the possibility of losing Holly entirely. Since then, they had become even closer, spending many evenings as they had the night before, cooking, eating, talking, flirting. They were now like two halves of a whole (albeit two wildly different ones) and yet Slade still hadn't found a way to tell her how he felt and where he wanted this to go. The warmth and intimacy he was experiencing now, in the darkness of Holly's living room, only confirmed in his mind what he needed to do.

Slade felt Holly's hand clench and unclench his shirt, and he shifted slightly when he realised she was waking up. As he predicted, her initial confusion soon became embarrassment.

"We...ah...I guess we fell asleep," Slade offered.

"Sorry," Holly replied, sitting upright and tucking her hair behind her ears. Despite the darkness in the room, Slade knew she was probably blushing.

"No need to apologise," Slade continued. "I was actually pretty comfortable."

"What time is it?" Holly continued.

Slade stretched his arm out, angling his watch towards the light from the street lamp.

"Just after three."

"I should..."

Holly gestured towards the door.

"Yes, me too," Slade said. He noticed that Holly hadn't yet moved from the couch.

"Do you..." Holly began. "Do you want to just stay?"

"You trust me not to interfere with the machine?" Slade grinned.

"No, I...I mean, you can stay on the couch if you want to," Holly said. "I just thought..."

Her voice trailed off, but Slade caught the barely perceptible glance she made in the direction of the door. Holly's smile was nervous, shy and suddenly Slade got it. The couch was immediately forgotten, and he got to his feet, waiting for Holly's cue. He felt her fingers graze his in the darkness, and he enveloped her hand in his, following Holly towards her bedroom.

End


End file.
